Nailed by a Nine-Inch Dixie Boner

It is a first for Ellen Pierce Melville, spectator. I chance to glance down at the instrument panel. My hand is still cupping his nuts, gently massaging them; my other hand is making nice along the arched bridge of Jim's cock. Hmmm. Getting super stiff, again. This kid has resilience.

I glance left, past Carl's naked butt and back. Carl's dick is sliding in and out, glistening wet. He has a gorgeous butt and back, muscular, moving now as he reams Jim's throat.

Face rather drawn, Steve still kneels next to me. I grin at him. He grins and oh-so-tenderly reaches over with two fingers and politely takes my titty.

At last, some "action"!

I lift the stiff rod I have been stroking till it has stretched up, standing perpendicular, bend my head forward, and take the bright red head between my lips. Hmmm! Nice to suck.

Wow! The patient on the operating table must have been defibrillated. His torso convulses. The thickly haired dark loins buck shoving the cock down my throat. Ah, men...

Steve, to my right, is squirming out of his bathing suit. I reach down with my left hand. Nice. I close my hand around a very warm, throbbing, upright dick. I turn to grin at Steve. Then, I gently pump.

Are we having fun, yet? It's about fucking time!

Carl, I notice, doesn't miss much. He keeps turning his head to gaze with rapt appreciation at my face, shoulders, and chest--and, of course, to check out the dispositions of the enemy.

In my mouth, the alive, throbbing cock, as I tongue it, is suddenly giving up its load. Jim's hips spasmodically drive the cock down my throat. Yikes! It's just a nice girl's throat, you know!

I am swallowing cum as a girl must. I like it.

I become aware that behind me Steve has reached around with his arms to squeeze my breasts. I feel his rigidly standing dick pressing against my lower back, just above my ass. Where is he going, with this?

Answer: Nowhere.

Suddenly, Carl's hand makes not violent, but not gentle, contact with Steve's face. Steve is lifted up off his knees and slammed back with a thump against the couch.

Carl's leg swings off prostrate Jim, the Great Rod jerking out of Jim's mouth.

I turn my head. It is a few inches from my lips.

The regnant flagpole of Dixie! Risen again!

It is a moment every young woman must face. The bugle's call.

I see that he declined to shoot his load into Jim's mouth. He has nine inches of iron. Did he save it to do me?

Mouth? Hand? Pussy? Ass? Between my boobs?

Tell a girl how she may serve?"

But I get up slowly, legs a bit stiff, and walk toward the kitchen. There, I find a wine glass. Already used? So be it.

In the fridge, about half the cold Mondavi Chardonnay is left. I pour myself a nice glass.

Not glancing at Carl, I carry my glass to the double glass doors open onto the deck. Warm night air on my tits. A moon over the distant beach.

It occurs to me that Carl might follow me out, stiff dick wagging imperiously, and rape me. I decide that the safest bet is to submit. I have seen the violence.

Was I hoping for it? Who knew, by then?

At the railing, I press my bare belly to the warm wood. Purple shadows the dunes. Nice cheap Chardonnay, I recommend it.

Okay, I am not irresistible to a southern DKE gentleman. I, Ellen Melville, am not going to have to decide whether or not to submit to rape by regnant Dixie. It would be flattering to have the choice, of course...

Carrying the wine glass, I re-enter the house.

Jim is still strapped to the table. Dick limp, now, still dribbling cum in addition to what I had swallowed.

And Steve, naked, is standing bent over, legs spread, back bent to place his hands on the couch. His head is lowered. Carl stands at Steve's ass with his belly flat against Steve's backside. So! The impossible nine-inch erection is buried to the hilt in Steve's ass.

I can tell. Poor Steve, his butt nailed, is jerking and heaving. His head is bowed and his long hair flailing back and forth in his agony, whipping across the couch, and he is grunting, "No, Carl, no! No, Carl, I can't take it, no!" Very monotonous.

And Carl's powerful hand is down gripping the dangling nuts between Steve's legs. Steve's martyrdom.

I can't believe the speed of Carl's thrusts into Steve's ass. It is a violent drilling, every thrust to the hilt, Carl's white belly slamming Steve's butt.

Nice to watch. Get's me hot.

Glad everyone is having a good time.

I turn with my wine glass and walk onto the deck. My nips stiffened again in the cooler evening. I have my own room. I will be sure to lock my door. Also, use my rubber wedge. Every DKE female needs one.

The little boy in the rowboat needs some loving attention.

I go back into the house, heading up to bed. Jesus, Carl is still reaming poor Steve. I am impressed to glimpse a ring of light blue around the thick base of Carl's prick, just where it disappears into Steve's ass. A condom. A university education is not a total loss.

As I pass, Carl only glances at me. Then, I spy Jim. Still strapped to the table. What is this? I step over and look down. Asleep.

I untie the cords from his wrists. He doesn't open his eyes. His dick is a nice limp white curve on his belly, the glans whitish with dried cum. I bend over and pick it up, rubbing it between my fingers, shaking it by the base. I push down on belly flesh so the dick rises farther. Jim does not stir; I hope he is having erotic dreams.

I feel myself getting pissed off. At everyone. Fucking men!

I stroll back toward Carl and Steve, my palms lifted to diddle my nipples. As I pass behind Carl, I glance down. Through his spread legs, I glimpse his truly impressive balls hanging, swinging each time he hammers another spike into Steve. Steve looks close to collapse. No wonder.

I reach between Carl's legs, grab his sac. He starts, then realizes what it is and relaxes.

I squeeze. I hear Carl laugh as though at a great joke. I imagine myself a strong woman. I squeeze harder. More laughter. I squeeze like mad with all my might. Laughter. Then, I remember something and rub his nuts against each other, rolling them roughly in my fist.

"Ouch," says Carl. And laughs.

I squeeze and grind them. God, they're big. Walnuts.

"Hey, I feel that all the way up my back and down my legs. That's the kind of pain that gets you nauseous."

I stop. But I still keep a grip. I begin to pull them back toward me. Then harder. I lean back with my weight hauling them. I say, "Okay, Steve has had it. Can't you see?"

Although I feel about to tear off his scrotum, he makes no protest. Just steps backward, his endless fat dick withdrawing from Steve's ass. Steve falls straight toward onto the floor, curls up. He weeps. His hands are down nursing his balls, his asshole. "You killed me," he keeks sobbing.

"Rough trade," drawls Carl.

Prick!

I give an extra hard grind.

"What is this about?" he drawls. He starts turning, but I hold tight.

Then, he whirls, tearing his balls from my grip. I see his eyes.

I scream. Try to duck and dart away.

Too slow.

He has my biceps in his hands. The pain lances through me. Then, he lifts me bodily, carries me a few feet, and slams my back into the wall, still holding me aloft.

One hand goes around my throat to hold me up, the other down to seize my bikini bottom. It tears off with a rending sound, he throws it away.

By now, I am panicking with no air. Pinned to the wall by my neck. My face gets blazing hot. I try to scream, but no go.

Where is everyone?

Out of commission.

Tears stream down my face. But then, the hand leaves my throat. A hand on either side now lifts me by my thighs. He standing between my spread legs.

Something jabs my pussy, jabs again, again. Each is a bruising punch. Then, I cry out in panic. I feel my cunt brutally distended, stinging, my pussy hair driven up into my cunt, too, pulling and hurting.

"Wait!" I beg. "Wait! Carl, please..."

But then, I am speechless. Driven with incredible force, nothing can stop the impalement. Yikes, it's killing my pussy. Just scraping and pulling and battering aside resisting flesh.

It seems to go ripping up through my whole belly. A hot reflux surges into my mouth. I struggle to swallow. No way I was speaking right now.

My whole body is jerked up, lowered, jerked up, my naked back and butt scraping the wall. Good way to get splinters in your ass.

God, God, God! He is jolting me. No wonder Steve is still lying with his fingers nursing his ass.

Then, a miracle. By which I mean, of course, normality. I feel lips on mine, Carl kissing me gently, believe it or not. It is Heaven. He kisses, probes my mouth, tickles my tongue, returns to sweet kissing.

Just what I the gynecologist ordered! I feel my pussy liquify. Just flow. As everything gets a lube job, the monstrous intrusion ceases stinging and hurting. My pussy just feels stuffed, jammed, packed. I know I am creaming so copiously it drips from my body.

Still kissing. I am limp--body, neck, pussy, mouth. I am a sack of girl nailed to a wall. I hang like a flag on a breezeless afternoon. My eyes close.

The kissing stops. Somehow, Carl heaves me higher. I feel a jolt of ecstasy as he sucks my tit into his mouth. Then the other one.

I lift my arms, wraps them around Carl's neck. Let my own neck go limp, head rolling back to my shoulders, eyes closed, lips parted...

Finally! An actual sound of something from Carl!

It is a moan, grasp, abrupt cry. The pile driver hammers me.

I am lifted. Being carried, each step accompanied by the pile driver, but now with racing, darting, shooting little sensations of ecstasy everywhere.

Cool air, we are out on the deck.

I start to open my eyes, then scream in terror. We're falling!

Abruptly, my body slams something soft; the weight above me crushes me; air is driven from my lungs. In my pussy, I feel a hot surge, not once but again and again.

That does it for me. I go crazy with cumming. Squealing my head off. Actually, shoving my pussy hard, jamming it onto the pleasure pole, trying to get it farther in and farther up me.

Carl is kissing my lips, again.

At last, I open my eyes and give a start. There, standing in the doorway, with the saddest sheep's eyes in the world, is Jim. He is looking right at me, though all he can see under Carl is my eyes.

Then, I see his prick is stiff. He must like me. Maybe I was his first girl.

Another moment of silent staring, and he mutters, loud enough for us to hear, "Fucking redneck rapist."

I forget exactly what happened. I know that I gasped as Carl's body shifted, flinging himself off me. The now-comfortably-lodged dick whipped out of me like a sword torn from its sheath. I gave a yell.

Carl was on his feet, but Jim had darted into the darkened house. With two swift bounds, Carl was at the doorway, but stopped himself, frowning into the interior.

Then, my heart went racing out of control when I heard what was either two or three simultaneously shrieking female voices. (Turned out to be three.)

Carl turned around and ever so casually strolled toward the chaise lounge, where I had sat up, arms over breasts. Staring at the dark doorway. Women were jabbering all at the same time.

Carl drawled: "Ah'll git the little prick tomorrah."

And then, he added, thoughtfully, "Three young ladies seem to have arrived. He almost bowled'em over."

Of course, my clothes were up in my room. My bikini bottom was shrugged. Where was the top? The three girls were coming; I could hear them. I was stark naked. I could feel Carl's, um, seed, leaking from my pussy. It tickled.

Guess I would throw myself over the rail of the deck. Probably land okay. Only about 20 feet to the sand. Crawl away somewhere...

Shreiks. Right in the doorway. Too late.

Carl was sauntering over to greet them. A real gentlemen. What could they be shrieking about? His beautiful, arching, pale, nine-inch dick? Probably just his light blue eyes.

I rolled over on my stomach on the chaise lounge. I'm skinny. Maybe they wouldn't notice.

"What is SHE doing?" I heard.

The drawl: "Ellen Pierce Melville? Restin', I guess."

Thank you, Carl, for not saying "from being fucked senseless."

"Is she asleep?"

"How would ah I know?"

Must be tough for an 18-year-old girl to stand in front of a tall blond stranger and make polite conversation. Pretend not to notice.

Another girl's voice, inspired. "Is this a nudist house, then?"

"Optional," drawls Carl. "Take off whatever yuh like."

"Now?" Another girl's voice.

Oh, for Christ's sake! I roll over, place my feet on the deck, get up. I probably am dripping. Am I paranoid? Do all three women look straight at my black pirate flag? I have a face, girls.

I suppose they are thinking: geez, not just topless. Bottomless. My ass is kind of fat... I meant to lose some weight...

I am a cultured young lady of an Ivy League university's coordinate college. I have dignity. I walk over, my hand extended. I smile into each face as I approach. "Hi, Ellen Melville."

Stop staring at my nipples. I'll slap the shit out of your pretty face. All pretty girls. No easy competition, here. Some big boobs, it looks like. I will have to make it on style.

We all shake. Carl takes the opportunity to shake, too. I notice he also bows.

Will you twats stop staring at date's pecker? Didn't you ever see a naked nine-inch dick?

I can't fucking believe this. One of the girl's--looks barely 18--very cut, somewhat short, chubby blonde--is finishing unbottoning her blouse. Shrugging it off. Reaches behind for the snap. The bra comes off. She has the cutest smile. Also the cutest breasts, perfectly rounded, lying sedately on her chest, nipples now stiff.

Carl smiles at her. "You are a radiantly pretty woman, Annie," he says. Annie's smile is indescribable

Go ahead, bitch, get down on your knees and see how much you can swallow.

Encouraged, another girl is disrobing.

All because of a basically fucking stupid joke.

I shake my head. Have had it. I say, tryng to imitate Carl's cool, "No, it isn't really a nudist house. Things just got out of hand. None of this was supposed to happen."

They stare at me. Annie looks down at her bare boobs, smile fading. The girl unbottoning her blouse stops. I say, "Going to say goodnight, now. be great to get to know you in the morning. I think you just take any room that's open. A couple doors are locked..."

"That would be Jackson's room, Ah would guess..."

"Oh, yes!" says one of the girls. "Jackson isn't here?"

"Just us..." he gestures vagues at my tits, "and two guys." He smiles."I think you ran into one of them..."

Wild giggles! "First introduction to the house! We were about to bolt. Wrong house. Who was he?"

"Oh, Jim."

"And the guy on the floor?"

"That would be Steve."

Annie, boobs still naked, is glancing around for her blouse. She says, "Quite a first day, you guys had..."

"Misunderstandin', sort of," drawls Carl.

"So not really a nude house," says Pauline, the lady half-way through unbuttoning her blouse."

"No rules," drawls Carl. Did I ever see a guy, outside a male strip joint, stand naked in front of three girls, complete strangers, without the slightest indication of awareness he is naked and his dick is from Heaven's Side Show?

"Think if it's okay, I'll disrobe and lie out for awhile in the breeze," says girl number three, who introduced herself as "Sha."

Okay, the bidding is in. Carl isn't heading upstairs anytime soon.

I say, "Night-night," with a charming little wave and head for the door to the house.

"Ellen!" commands the Confederate general.

I stop. He steps over, puts his arms around me, his face comes down, "He is kissing me." I feel my pussy liquify. I close my eyes. Focus on keeping my knees from giving way.

I hear embarrassed giggles. Of course, we are both naked.

I come out of the clinch. Ready to race for the door. I turn to smile at Carl.

Oh, fuck! No wonder the giggles!

It's almost a boner. Carl is smiling. Doesn't know he's erect, right?

Okay, girls, get your lottery tickets. I'm not in this one. Bye-bye.

Jeez, Steve is still lying there. Sodomized into oblivion?

I step over. Nope, snoring. Great sign of male sexual satisfaction. Curious, I kneel. From fetal position, he has rolled onto his back. I love dicks so much. All dicks.

I figure, well, he squeezed my titties and pressed his dick against my back...

I take his dick between two fingers and a thumb. So soft, but firm! I roll back the foreskin. Sweet fat meat. I am rolling his foreskin up and down. The head of his dick bucks pushes outward for bow.

I bend, inspect it, as though identifying what meat I am eating in a Chinese restaurant. And take a bite. Well, a suck. So silky and beautiful. I am nodding up and down on it.

"What?" The body jerks. "What?"

A sigh, "Oh." And, "So beautiful. Beautiful..."

I lift off. "So, you like girls?"

"Oh, shit, yes. That gay couple thing was a gag."

"Jim went overboard."

A murmur, eyes closed, serene, as I suck. "Idiot! Totally weiner! Moron!"

"Not your boyfriend?"

"Oh, please!"

His hand is playing with my tits. Can't get enough of squeezing them. Jumping from one to the other...

"So beautiful," he murmurs. Almost dark in here, now.

Then, remembering, he adds: "Nah. Two nerds into classical theater, concert music, studying. Never had girlfriends."

"Neither of you?"

"Nope."

"So..."

"So, once I touched his dick. We both almost fainted. He touched mine..."

"And from just that, he went into gays and rough trade?"

"Lives in his head. He's brilliant. Sensational musician. Omnicient about theater. But gay?"

"What about after tonight, though?"

His fingers are doing my titties as though I am the only female on earth. It is actually turning me on. He has a strangely gentle, talented touch."

"You have nice fingers."

Barely murmuring: "Flute. Piano. Some guitar. Some mandolin."

"I was headed for bed..."

"No!" I jump, he has gone from murmuring to shouting.

"You're going to come?"

His perpendicular rod is thrusting down my throat. I relax the appropriate muscles. But thrusting doesn't get him off. Throats aren't made for that. I am ticking the head of his dick with my tongue, licking its underside, wiggling the underside of his glans on the meatus.

Glub. I love it when this happens. I feel his pleasure in the hot spurts. Excites me. The secret is to swallow before it cools into glue.

He still thinks his thrusting is causing his come. Got to be careful my neck doesn't get broken...

For maybe three minutes, I lie next to him, my cheek against his chest, my arm reaching down to cup his balls. He starts to snore.

Out in the hall, I can hear giggles, laugher, gasps... Don't want to hear it en clair.

Heading to the narrow wooden stairs, I tread the creaky floorboards. I remember the room where I left my stuff. I get there, flick the light.

For Christ's sake. My suitcase, makeup kit, and laptop are where I left them. But one of the girls has left her stuff right beside mine. I place the alien stuff outside my door. She will dope it out.

Five minutes of organizing the nest. Cute room. One window with the moon's half smile shining in. Slanting roof with narrow interlocking boards painted white. Wallpaper some Boston beans print. Closet door colonial blue. The bed is an ample single. Did this used to be a standard double? Quilt folded at the foot of the bed. One dresser. One mirror. Two rag rugs on the wide-board wooden floor.

Then, to the bathroom. Which is exactly where? I go creaking along. Trying to be quiet. As far as I know, only Jim is up here. Or maybe he is runing naked through the dunes like Soren Kirkegaard calling to God naked beneath the Northern Lights.